An Enemy's Gift
by terrified
Summary: A Molliarty one-shot. In the pursuit of his greatest enemy, Jim Moriarty makes an unexpected discovery.


**_A/N_** ** _:_** _I needed to kickstart my heart for a bit, so what better way than to write a little fic? It seems I still have Molliarty on the brain so I present to you this little throwback to more 'office romance' origins. If I ever meet the writers of Sherlock I most definitely want to ask them how they envisioned Jim and Molly's first encounter. Anyway, if you came to read this, thank you! I'm so inactive nowadays so I really appreciate the few of you that still come back to read my stuff :) All my love! x_

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 **An Enemy's Gift  
**  
He had been undercover for some time since deciding once and for all that if he wanted something done, it was best he did it himself. Naturally, it did not take much for someone like Jim Moriarty to earn a place within the IT department at St Bart's. He took care not to excel too greatly for there was no need to cause a sensation. Not yet anyway.

Jim had found the perfect ruse to ensure he could continually keep an eye on the wrench in his plans, Sherlock Holmes. Routinely planting little bugs and scheduling glitches in the computers at labs he knew the detective would frequent meant having the perfect excuse to always be where the detective was.

It was during this period of observation that a certain Molly Hooper had begun making her way into his radar. She had not known, of course, the effect she was having on Jim. Frankly, neither did he. Slowly, he found that his attention had begun to shift from his nemesis to this intriguing new character.

The first thing that had caught his attention was the fact that she was the only one who had maintained Sherlock's. He knew how flippant the detective was with any human that surrounded him. Yet, Sherlock was always different around Molly Hooper. He listened a little longer, interrupted a little less and agreed a little more with what she had to say. To Jim's surprise, he concluded that, unlike everyone else whom Sherlock treated as 'lesser beings', the detective respected this pathologist. Enough for him to consult her, and her alone.

One afternoon, Sherlock had come sweeping in, hot on the heels of another case, into a lab Jim knew to expect him in. Jim had already set up shop there and was casually debugging a hard drive he had infected that morning. As swiftly as the detective had come in, he was soon out of the door, having gotten whatever it was he had wanted from Molly.

"No need to thank me so many times, Sherlock," Molly muttered, sighing to pick up the pen that had fallen from where he had quite literally swiped reports off of.

All of a sudden, it dawned on Jim in a most overwhelming fashion that he was now standing alone in the lab with Molly Hooper. Molly Hooper, the esteemed pathologist with quite clearly the patience of a saint and with a smile so beautiful it had actually caught his eye.

"Everything all right?" Jim asked, casually moving to the work bench she was standing at.  
"Hmm? Oh, yes, everything's fine," she answered, a little surprised that someone else had been in the lab.

She pointed to the lab computer and his laptop that was connected to it and smiled apologetically.

"We must have disturbed you!" she remarked, quickly gathering her things, "I'll be right out of your hair if just give me five min—"  
"Oh, no, no, no, please…" Jim interrupted, "I'm almost done here. No disturbance at all."

A side of him he never knew existed suddenly spoke inside his head.

 _Smile, you fool. Smile nicely. Then ask her._

To his surprise, Jim complied to this unfamiliar side of him and broke into a dashing smile. His eyes shone at her and he was sure her breath had caught slightly.

"I'm Jim, by the way," he said, extending his hand, "Jim from IT."  
"Molly," she answered, reaching to shake his hand, "from the morgue."  
"Pathology, you mean," he said, realising how lovely it felt to have her hand in his.

His correction of her job description made her laugh, and it was his turn to have his breath caught in his throat. How lovely she sounded too.

 _Quickly. Ask her_ , came the voice again.

"So…" Jim said with an awkward laugh. "Bad day, was it?"

Molly paused to look at him, curious about his words but unable to help the small smile which appeared on her lips.

"It's…well, you know, Sherlock Holmes," she remarked with a shrug, gathering her folders in her arms, "He's got a bit of a reputation, as I'm sure you've heard."  
"Well, he hasn't come to bother us at IT yet…" Jim said with a chuckle.  
"Lucky you," replied Molly, with a soft chuckle of her own.

It was Jim's turn to pause and look at her. After all this time of surreptitious observation, Jim realised he had never taken a proper look at Molly Hooper. He drank in the lush dark brown of her ponytail that lay in the crook of her neck and marvelled at the gentleness of her face.

"Sorry…" he remarked suddenly, snapping out of his slight stupor, "I think I'm the one bothering you know…"  
"Oh, no, on the contrary!" she said with a bright chuckle, "You've been kinder to me in these five minutes than Sherlock Holmes has been in all the years I've known him."  
"You've known him for years?" Jim asked, raising an eyebrow.

 _She really does have the patience of a saint,_ thought Jim to himself.

 _Exactly. So, are you going to ask her or not?_ His new side chided him.

"Pathetic, isn't it?" Molly laughed, breaking Jim's train of thought. "I really should tell him off one of these days."  
"Yes, you should," said Jim, thoughtfully.

 _Ask! Her! Now!_

"Um, anyway, Molly, I was wondering…"  
"Yes?" she answered, looking right at him.

 _God. Those eyes_.

"You've had a bad day, I've just finished whatever it was I had to do…" he began.  
"It certainly doesn't feel so bad now," she remarked, smiling gently at Jim.  
"Then, I don't suppose you'd mind if the two of us went out to get a coffee perhaps?" asked Jim at last.  
"Not in the least," answered Molly without hesitation, startling Jim.

She had agreed – and it baffled Jim, although nothing baffled him more than the fact that he had _asked_.

"So, um…"

The short-circuiting of his brain had officially commenced and it did not escape Molly, who smiled in amusement.

"I can be ready in 20 minutes," she began, pointing to the stack of folders she had to return, "See you at the hospital entrance?"

Jim blinked rapidly before relaxing into an embarrassed half-smile.

"Yes. See you," he answered, wondering when his heart had begun pounding so loudly it drowned his own voice out.

"Great," said Molly, giving him a small wave before exiting the lab.

 _Great_.

Jim sank into his seat by the now fully debugged hard-drive and did not realise how foolishly he was smiling to himself. Suddenly, the criminal mastermind in disguise burst into laughter, shaking his head incredulously.

"I never thought I'd ever say this, " murmured Jim Moriarty to himself.

He shut his laptop down and tucked it under his arm, clicking his tongue in satisfaction.

"But thank you, Sherlock Holmes," he said, genuinely grateful that the pursuit of his nemesis now led him down this fascinating new path.

 **END**


End file.
